The Swan Queen
by sorceress2
Summary: Based loosely on Swan Lake. R&R and I'll be your best friend. ExT. Duh.
1. A Sorcerer at the Shore of Swans

Queen of Swans

Prologue

Cool, watery moonlight cast itself momentarily over the gently undulating motion of the dark waves of the lake, glimmering the waters and surrounding grounds with a silvery, effervescent gleam that made all things pale and bluish-silver. A breeze as silvery as all things present ruffled verdant summer trees and blossoms, all pale with silver shadows, and carried itself to touch the greek temple that dwelt on an island, in the middle of the lake. Tall marble columns that shimmered white in the starlit night, a round marble base and a rotunda roof, ornate with a thousand swirls and scrolls, intertwined with leaves that were so real that they could have been expected to be ruffled by that light, water-cool zephyr. 

The sound of a soft cello wove its melody with the lilting minor melody of two accompanying viols, and the gentle laughter of young girl's voices were carried by that wind, to the lonely shore. True, topiary bushes and trees and vegetation of all manner were pruned to a strange and ghosty beauty in the deep velvet of night, the vast gardens stretching almost out of sight, only interjected by little tinkling stone falls, or magnificient fountains spouting silver streams of water into the waiting basins, yet it was a lonely place, lonely especially for that one young man standing at the shore.

Even had he not been extrodinarily beautiful, there would have been many who would have remarked on such hard, cold eyes for such a young man. They were a brilliant shade of sapphire, but diluted to the color of the shadows that surrounded him by night, and were not a strange contrast to the handsome face, yet those eyes spoke of many more years of experience than that face betrayed. And the face betrayed nothing, as unyielding as his eyes. The zephyr ruffled midnight hair, and almost made him seem a young boy. Almost. 

The luminescent moon merely looked upon him, and her gracefully gentle brilliance cast light upon his strange garb, a robe, black, and a long cloak, deep indigo, fluttered by wind to cast a sinister look upon him. The robe, a shimmering black silk heavy enough to be called that treasured cloth samite, and the cloak, was of brocaded silk-velvet, the brocading augmented by golden threads and fantastical embroidery, were rich and spoke of wealth. He wore a heavy gold chain around his neck, with a sapphire, cabochon-cut, the size of a hen's egg and smaller sapphires and black pearls swirling around the largest one. The cabochon had much fire for an unfaceted cut.

The young man, a sorcerer in truth, was abruptly awakened from his revere of the lake, and walked towards the water of the lake. The cold sapphire eyes never altered. There was a small boat attatched to the marble dock, yet he paid no attention to it at all. The boat was pushed, gently, by some unseen force, and headed by itself, to the little island. As for the young man, the air rippled around him, and he was changed in an unameable way, and a great, black hawk with glinting sapphire eyes spread its enormous wings and flew towards the island.


	2. Forever the Sin of Betrayal's Price

Queen of Swans__

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Chapter 1

_Ein Schottisches Gedicht_

_Fern an schottischer Felsenküste,_

_Wo das graue Schlösslein hinausragt_

_Über die brandende See,_

_Dort am hochgewölbten Fenster,_

_Steht eine schöne, kranke Frau,_

_Zartdurchsichtig und marmorblass,_

_Und sie spielt die Harfe und singt,_

Und der Wind durchwühlt ihre langen Locken 

_Und trägt ihr dunkles Lied_

_Über das weite, stürmende Meer._

_Scotch Poem_

_Far away on the rock-coast of Scotland,_

_Where the old grey castle projecteth_

_Over the wild raging sea,_

_There at the lofty and archèd window,_

_Standeth a woman beauteous, but ill,_

_Softly transparent and marble pale;_

_And she's playing her harp and she's singing,_

_And the wind through her long locks forceth its way,_

_And beareth her gloomy song_

_Over the wide and tempest-toss'd sea._

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Heinrich Heine 

In a clearing denoted by many tall and graceful poplars and aged oaks, there were many young girls making merry in the dark of night. Some danced as merrily as butterflies might, among blossoms, and others knelt to gather summer flowers, delphines and pimpernels and buttercups, a thousand abundant flowers, as others lounged languidly, at their ease, listening to the cello and viols that played themselves. Rather, it was the invisible, enchanted servants that played the stringed instruments, the ones enchanted by the sorcerer, called the Unseens. 

There was a great bout of laughter and merrymaking in gaily array, except for one who was seated under a great oak, weeping, with a half-dozen or so other hovering around her anxiously. She was the new swan, just enchanted to transformation, and sobbing into the pale skirts of Laurette, as others looked to her worriedly. All heads turned, and merrymaking ceased, as a boat was seen along the marble dock.

There was a heavy silence as the little gilded ebon boat approached the shore of the island of the Greek shrine. Young girls gaily in their joy of youth, though in night, ceased to be young girls, and transformed to silent, pale wraiths, their long silken gowns pooling at their feet in a beautiful curtsy, their diphanous pale skirts of the finest gossamer gauze playing like waves in the wind, and their long, shimmering hair waving amidst the finest pearls, diamonds, and all manner of sparkling jewels. 

As the great hawk, dark as sin, landed with effortless ease infront of the arrayed young girls, perhaps two dozen in their number, there was a ripple in the air as the sorcerer came to being again. Those girls who had sank into their curtsies deepened them with a slight movement of grace, and were motionless, as only their hair and gossamer skirts moved in the wind.

"My Lady Swans," The sorcerer said in a strange, deep voice, "I bid you a good evening." 

There was no reply, and as he did not seem to expect any, he turned with a supreme air of dignity as the curtsies only deepened, until he motioned them with a carelessly confident gesture. Two dozen girls, pale as the moon in their rich garb of fine fabric, rose in unison and only stood, waiting on the sorcerer mutely. They seemed to be accustomed to him and his mannerisms. 

"My Lady Swans," the sorcerer began coolly, "I wish for to you share the morning repast with me, if it pleases you all, and your mistress." All of his niceties were all for nought, as every mind present knew that they had but no choice except to do whatever he pleased. 

"And by and by, where is your Lady Queen tonight?" little moved yet, except for waving hair and gorgeous robes, as the First Lady stepped forward.

"Lord Eriol, our Lady Queen Tomoyo is there." A graceful hand rose, and gestured at the greek temple. The sorcerer Eriol turned with an air of displeasure that darkened a dark countenance. 

"And why has she declined our company tonight, First Lady Adelaide?" Eriol questioned imperiously. There was a hint of danger in his stance, subtle displeasure and power mingling to an unsettling combination. The Second Lady stepped forward.

"We do not yet know, Lord Eriol, and we ask your forgiveness. She has become more withdrawn, for two weeks now, every time we are transformed by the setting of the sun to our human form. Even when she is a swan by day, does she isolate herself."

"Second Lady Melisande. I pray you tell me why you do not yet know why she has isolated herself.  Did I not set it so that it is your duty, You, the First Lady Adelaide, and the Third Lady Phedyma, to wait upon her? Why are you here, yet she is there without your assistance?"

A Lady Swan, Odeline, spoke up suddenly. Gorgeously ringleted hair, mingled with jewels, swayed as she spoke.

"Lord Eriol, our Lady Queen declines our company and service, and says that she only wishes to be left alone."  Valdirene, another Lady Swan, nodded. The sorcerer frowned. 

"I will go to fetch her myself. Does the Swan Queen dare to deny her crime, and have free will for her sin?" The sorcerer laughed coldly. It was a deep, rich laugh, but very, very cold. 

"Lady Theodorette, make all ready to board the boat. Wait here." Without another glance back, he turned and strode towards the greek dwelling.  

The sorcerer walked through a vista of poplars, elegant in form and verdant in the summer night, to the pale marble sanctuary in which a young girl sat. Pale, pale skin like the marble, and brilliantly violet eyes that were very virulent in hue, even in the deep velvety darkness, and hair blacker than the evening sky made for her to seem fey and enigmatic. Even in the cool light of the moon, her hair shimmered with the fire of diamonds, casting a pale, brilliant sheen, almost as pale as her silken dress of a hundred layers. Each layer was lighter than air, and edged with gorgeously pale lace, studded with thousands of tiny seed pearls the size of grains of sand. 

The Lady Queen sat motionless, looking to the lake, and sky, and ultimately to freedom, yet she was chained to the grounds of the Lord Sorcerer. Almost seeming as a wraith, or ghost, she sat, supernatural beauty seeming as effortless as a sigh. There was no movement in her.

"My Lady Queen." Said the sorcerer. He held a hand out, as if beckoning her to rise from her oaken and silver seat, yet she did not move. Not a movement to even acknowledge the presence of the sorcerer. 

Lord Eriol hesitated for a moment, but retracted the proffered hand. He spoke again, voice hard and imperious.

"You would do well to remember that you have been imprisoned for your sin of betrayal, as all women commit such, and I am a forgiving keeper to which you might repent your sin. Rise, and stop your silliness. There is nothing to be gained." 

He proffered his hand again, soft black kidskin glove like a black claw in the night, and the Swan Queen stood in a fluid motion and took the hand, and they walked to the boat together. In the night, there was nothing but the sky and moon, elegant poplars and wind, and such bitter, bitter expressions in the young, exquisite faces of those who had been imprisoned for their sin of betrayal.


	3. The New Mistress of Yellow Opals

Queen of Swans

Chapter 2

A trio of a pianoforte, a bassol, and a violincello played by the Unseens made a cheerful, companionable palette of sound, yet the company was neither companionable nor friendly. A great dining hall had a table that seated fifty, and it was only one of the more minor dining halls. The Great Dining hall held two hundred at one table, the Major Dining Hall held one hundred, and the morning room held perhaps only twenty. Through great, double-arched doors one could see the Eastern Salon, and to the double-arched doors at the other side one could see the anteroom of the dining hall. 

Beeswax candles, two feet tall each, rested grandly in enormous candelabras on a massive sideboard, on sconces in the walls that held fifty each, and three hundred from a chandelier that was suspended by thick golden chains, heavy enough to tow war carts. A brilliantly warm glow illuminated the hall of five stories, and altogether, along with the lively trio and richly colored wall hangings and deep woods, gave an image of refined warmth. 

And yet this show of hospitality was little but a Barmecidal pretension, a false image of welcoming. Two dozen girls were seated at the table, all attired in snowy white, their jewels giving wild glints of light, their hair that had previously been pale, regardless of color, in the watery moonlight, were now given rich and gorgeous hue. Shimmering auburn, deep hazel, pale silver-blond, warm red-gold, and jeweled black would have made their owners the toast of any town or city, but the pale faces were not living, only ghostly imitations of youth and liveliness. Two dozen so sets of eyes were fastened on the young man at the table. 

The trio faded as the sorcerer opened his mouth, and then only the faint sound of the lone cello was audible.

"My Lady Swans, I have requested your company here today because there has been a change in your hierarchy. Tonight, you have a new mistress. She is a priestess, and your duty now will be to not only wait on your Lady Queen Tomoyo, but it also will be to wait on Mistress Kaho in turn. Kaho?" 

From the lavish salon glided a very tall, imposing woman, fiery hair held up in a halo of warm gold swirls and diamonds, and amber eyes rich and warming. She wore pale lemon robes, but done so with gold embroidery that it took a deeper, shining color. Yellow opals gave their strange, lucent gleam in the illumination of thousands of candles. 

"Lady Swans," said Kaho in her voice that vibrated deeply in tenor, "I am very pleased to meet you." 

Only silence met her sally. Two-dozen girls, as different as day and night in their hair, pale or dark, or of eye, also pale or dark, only sat with the grace and light presence of wraiths. Eriol frowned at the assembled girls. 

"Show respect to your new mistress, Lady Swans!" He barked harshly. And the girls set to movement, as though they had been frozen for a thousand years and animated themselves, each with a gracious nod or smile. But Eriol had noticed that still, despite his harsh order, Tomoyo did nothing. 

"Lady Queen." He pronounced, as if as a sentence, "Show respect to your new Mistress." Tomoyo made as if to move, and the Unseens pulled her chair out as she stood. As she and First Lady Adelaide sat closest to the Sorcerer Eriol, she was very near to the priestess. Tomoyo lowered herself to a graceful curtsy, her silken skirts pooling beautifully around her slim form, stood, and sat down without a word. 

The Sorcerer Eriol still seemed dissatisfied with her reaction, still, yet could do nothing to criticize the court curtsy, fit for a queen. Mistress Kaho frowned, as well. It seemed that she was not accustomed to mockery, however imagined. 

And so the party of women, and one young man at the head of the table, set to dine their morning repast, whence the clock struck eleven o'clock, and stars shimmered brilliantly through windows taller than most two story houses, with great sheets of glass too large to be fit into window casings unbroken, but nevertheless were. It was the warm dreams of slumber that encased the rest of the world, while these peculiar people were starting their day. The vivacity of the trio, with the violincello and bassol's interwoven melodies warming the heart as the piano made a soft background of sound, did not touch any of these fairy creatures. 

Long lines entering from the salon, and the eastern entrance of the dining hall, bore by the Unseens golden and silver platters, heaped with the choicest of summer fruits, icy bunches of grapes in great glistening cascades, select peaches with coats of the finest delectable velvet, aromatic pomengranates split to boast a thousand luscious seeds, and bowls of glistening berries, deep blue and potent scarlet, mingling with the scarlet color of cherries. More processions of platters entered, bearing cheeses, colored deep yellow or white, or rimmed with white or yellow, or with specks of multihued ingredients that appeared as savory as they tasted. Crystal stands of breads, braided and topped with crusts, or aromatic with the scent of butter or fruit, were washed down with the choiciest of juices. 

Such a great collection of delicacies, and only for a morning meal, would have been greeted with only the greatest enthusiasm, yet all present ate little. Young maidens only picked at the glistening fruits, or aromatic breads or cheeses, and but sipped at juices or iced water in crystal flagons whose cut facets caught light. There was a clatter of delicate silverware, and of china, painted in brilliant hues, yet there was little eating to be done. It was a strange party, to be dining as little as they.

The new Mistress Kaho seemed perturbed as well, though she hid it with skill. She watched the Lady Swans carefully. The Lady Queen, especially. She seemed to be wondering on the use of such extravagance, and only to house a few dozen girls who had betrayed their mensfolk. What use had they to the great, mysterious sorcerer Eriol? But she would not ask in the presence of the Lady Swans. And so the morning meal was dismissed, and the Lady Swans were set free to do as they wished, to preuse great novels in French, Greek, Latin, German, Arabic, or English, or to wander the great, empty halls that had never seen a human foot tread upon it for hundreds of years, or to dance or make themselves pretty; the sorcerer cared little for them. Yet still he kept them.

Polite farewells were made, still yet a farce of politeness, as the Mistress Kaho and Lord Sorcerer received two dozen perfect curtsies, as two dozen elegant necks bowed in humility, yet still had its proud arch. And none other were as graceful as the Lady Queen. There were many present who noticed that the Lord Sorcerer's gaze dwelt upon her longer than it did others. 

Secrets within secrets, webs of lies spinning to ever more intricate webs, the Mistress Kaho and Lord Eriol left for their chambers at night. It was the Unseens who would see to the meals for the Lady Swans for the rest of the night, until their transformation was made again, at the rising of the sun. Their shared chambers were enormous, and were of shared companionship and love. 

"I cannot see why you will keep the Lady Swans with you; there is no need for them, and I see that as they take your power, why do you not set them free?" Kaho questioned softly. The Lord Sorcerer did not like questioners, but her standing with him might make a difference. Some difference.

He looked upon her with a cool indifference. It was almost as if he were disdaining women all, as a whole, and dismissed her question out of hand with an impertinent remark.

"Do not say that you are jealous of my attentions for my captives, Kaho. I thought I knew you better than that." Was her sole rejoinder. Her face tightened as they mounted lushly carpeted marble stairs, winding along a pillar like the inside of a seashell.

"Eriol, your heart is of stone and your soul is of ice, and I do not know, but could only hope that I could melt the glaciers which have formed, encasing you for millenia, and hope that of the dust and stones that I might grow fruit. Is there no way, truly, that I could touch your soul, without its glaciers?"

Kaho almost seemed pensive for a moment, not the powerful priestess, but only a woman with a man whose heart is of iron.

"Dear Kaho, you are my love and my only love. Few women could have claimed such, and I think that you are one of the highest of those." Eriol's voice was noncommitial, almost as if he were not even thinking of his words.

Kaho's face grew dark.

"You speak to me, and call me dear, but am I really dear to you? What are your empty words, when all you give me is coolness and brief, fleeting moments of passion? What do you see in me?"

Eriol seemed to be offended. Perhaps he grew repentenant, perhaps. But he spoke pacifying words, and as such, they soothed Kaho.

"My darling, you are my only love. What would I not forsake for you? You must find it in your heart to forgive me, for I am not trusting by nature, never that! And I am weary and distraught tonight, my love. My spells and incantations work against me, it seems. You must forgive me, for what else shall I do?"

Kaho's face which was formerly of ice and fire, was calmed to a womanly, gentle expression. Her entire frame relaxed, as she did not know that she had tensed at all, and was pacified.

"Then let us retire, darling Eriol, and I would only hope that you would share with me this passion that you keep locked inside." 

And so they entered, descended into their own world of their lush chambers, and no more was heard from them until the dawning morn. 


	4. Foretold by Dreams and Omens

Queen of Swans

Chapter 3

Lady Dawn awakened slowly with her Lord Sun, upon the brethen of the Lord Sorcerer Eriol's domain, his vast estates, and in the heart of the wild woods, his enormous sprawling manor, grand in the middle gothic style. It was an intimidating sight. The sable black sky, scattered with careless jewels, ruby and sapphire and diamond, slowly lost its color in the everlasting fight against Lady Dawn, and became but a pale semblance of itself as the sun rose. A black sky turned to a deep midnight blue, then to a periwinkle color, then to dove gray, until Lady Dawn cast her bright garments across the heavens, brilliantly scarlet, and gold and orange, streaked virulently with fuschia and purple as if some giant artist had taken a fit of madness and splattered his paint carelessly.

On the shores of Le Lac des Cygnes, Swan Lake, the light was just about to touch upon it. Two dozen grogeously attired girls, fortunes of jewels in their hair, and at throat, wrists, and ears, stood at the shore. A little marble shore of Carrara marble, purchased at exorbitant price from the faraway Italy. Two dozen girls in pale white like snow, stood, waiting expectantly for the sun yet knowing that for the rest of forever, would they never again be able to feel the touch of sun upon their human faces. Golden sun touched topiary trees, and marble fountains, then an enormous hedge maze, and then finally the assembled girls, who waited patiently for the sun to transform them.

As golden light sashayed over two dozen young maidens, an opalescent mist rose, and each rose, into a small whirlpool of that silvery mist, and then they were completely covered with light. Out of the mist, two dozen great swans came, stretched wings that were wider than a man was tall, all as white as snow, and lifted their wings towards the little greek temple.

The new Mistress Kaho turned from the great window casing, and let the large panel of brocaded velvet fall, then undid the heavy scarlet curtains from their silken tassels. Her voice was quiet.

"Well, Eriol, I see how you have set it so that their presence at Swan Lake is a punishment, but I would think that something like this would only drain your power, to keep twenty-four individuals here who have power in their own right, against their will." She spoke with a hint of a question in her voice.

Eriol put the curtains back up, as well as the panel so he could see the Swan Lake, crystal clear in the early morning air from the high tower of his chambers. His eyes hardened.

"Women are to be mistrusted in the best of times, Kaho. Their sins of betrayal, so great were they, warranted that I would punish them as I wished."

Kaho seemed to boil for a moment, yet the only sound was that of an ancient grandfather clock.

"Women," Kaho said scornfully. "would cut your heart out to hear you speak that way of them. They are not all bad, not as capricious or cruel as men may be. You speak too generally, and I still do not see why you must keep twenty-four swan-maidens who only drain you of power."

It seemed as if Kaho's questioning of his ways were greatly annoying to Eriol, as he turned with an air of impatience to her. He paced in the early morning light, casting itself softly over rich ebony wood, teak, imported from the Orient, all carved wondrously. Tapestries studded with jewels covered marble walls, and the scent of old folios, volumes upon volumes of old, leather-bound, gilt-printed books. The room was immense, and the collection of books, on sorcery, mathematics, alchemy, chemistry, folklore, languages, and all manner of subjects, probably could have bought a kingdom, if not founded a great House. 

The young sorcerer held up a hand, as if to bid her to cease, yet she did not stop her endless torrent.

"I myself have never approved of such waste, and you have not either, no more than I. What is your reason for keeping your swans?" Eriol turned with a dangerous glint in his eye.

"I despise being questioned, Kaho. And you are a guest. But let me tell you that you are not my equal here. These estates have been in my family for hundreds of years, if not thousands, but almost. I am the Lord of the Manor and Lord Count of the Estates of Swan Lake. Do you question me?"

All he was received with was a disdainful look. He returned to his dark study of the graceful swans flying to and fro, and landing in water to swim, their necks arched like reeds. And the most graceful and beautifully proportioned one by far, was one who wore a thin golden chain around the base of an immensely long neck, with a pendant bearing a perfect, golden crown.

Kaho approached him, and touched his cheek. It was a hard face, of a hard man. He made no movement to acknowledge her touch. But then it softened.

"Love of my heart, why do we quarrel so? Forgive me, dear Kaho, but I am overwrought. Forgive me, or I will be damned."

Kaho, too, softened for his soft words. Although his words were executed with a sort of airy noncholance, and dismissal, still, she softened for them. Her smile was radiant like the sun, yet for less reason that the sun had. She abruptly pulled his head down and bestowed upon him an ardent kiss. Their breathing grew heavy, as ardor heated the air. More kisses exchanged, as Kaho drew off a gorgeously golden robe of linen and yellow opals, and bare skin and white linen edged with Sovara lace were exposed. 

Eriol drew away suddenly. His face seemed twisted, pain and guilt and a terrible, terrible fear twisted it as if he were mad. He backed away with haste. He raised a hand, pointed an imperious finger.

"Go!" Kaho's face was confused, brutally hurt to be rebuffed in such a way. She took a step towards him, but stopped as he recoiled as if she carried a disease. Hurriedly, she drew on her robe, lifted her skirts, and left.

The sorcerer who had exhibited such belligerence previously, sat upon a tall, wooden chair, covered in gilt. Facing the Swan Lake. His eyes were mixed, of anguish, self-loathing, and confusion, but as always, there was a coldness and a brittleness present.

"If only she knew!" he whispered harshly.

"If only she knew. Tomoyo, to be the love of my life who conquered a heart of dust and stone, yet it was discovered that she in her previous life, betrayed my last reincarnation."

An anguished sob, and nothing. He spoke again, a husky, pain-thickened whisper.

"Yet to be the love of my life. My dreams foretold her to conquer my heart, yet I will resist a betrayeress such as she. Always, I will resist."

Silence reigned in the rich, cool room, light falling upon fragile spun glass of rainbow hue, deep blue and mint green and transparent vermilion sparkled and played with the light as it cast colored flecks over walls. Vases of porcelain as thin as paper, imported from the east, each with its own guard, to prevent the destruction of a fortune sat quietly. Deeply colored Flemish tapestries, of hunting parties and their servants, falconers and their birds, falcons, and dove-hawks, and gyre falcons. The eyes of courtiers glinted in jewels dispassionately, as did the birds. Great frescoes of mythical gods and goddesses on the ceiling, gazing serenely at a lone sorcerer in his chair, facing a lake of swans. Eriol stood in a fluid, dangerous motion, and paced. He stopped, and looked lost. Then suddenly, a strong arm swept a spun glass bowl of cobalt blue and silver, and it shattered with a great crash, and flinging of glass.

And then nothing, except the soft chiming of the grandfather clock, soft westminister chimes proclaimed the hour of seven o'clock.


	5. Implacable Fates Who Refuse to Rest

Queen of Swans

Queen of Swans

Chapter 4

Days passed, then weeks, and then weeks turned into months, which gently melted into everlasting years. The girls grew, even within their magical enchantment, and before it was known, seven long years had passed. Many of the girls were three or four years over twenty, now, beautiful in the ripening age, lush with the peak of womanhood, yet they were imprisoned within their invisible cage, bound to the estate, and to the Lord Court Sorcerer Eriol, forever. Girls were added, sporadically, a few one year, more the next, and then perhaps none for the next two years. Their numbers grew, and yet it was the Queen Tomoyo who reigned as monarch over them.

In the cool, pale moonlight, torches had been lit, enchanted torches to light at the setting of the sun, and fade at the rising of it, and the Unseens played their cello, violin, and harp to create beautiful sounds.  Soft wind ruffled long locks of hair, and verdant grasses, and lush leaves of trees. The estates never knew any winter at all. Today was when the Lord Eriol was to come and inspect them, making sure of their health to ensure that they could carry out their heavy sentence.

And he came to see Osana. She was a new swan, newly transformed for only a fortnight or so, and crying helplessly into the comforting bosom of Phydema. Phydema, the Third Lady. Their numbers were almost fifty, now, and their flock were graceful as ever, yet lacked the good nature of when their numbers were fewer. Bickering arose, yet none in the presence of the Queen or Sorcerer, and today there would be none, as all were decked in their finest, for the Sorcerer.

The Queen Tomoyo of the Swans sat with her court, her Three Ladies and a scattering of favored ladies in waiting, as the Three Ladies waited upon the Queen, and the other swans waited upon the Three Ladies. Adelaide and Melisande spoke with Tomoyo softly, they three, and Phydema, dressed the richest and most beautiful. The Sorcerer Eriol had told them mockingly that even betrayers needed a hierarchy. Theodorette was Head Lady-in-Waiting, first to wait upon the Three Ladies, a close friend of Tomoyo.

The gathered girls stood in unison as a little fleet of boats came; such a number was needed to accommodate their numbers now, and curtsied towards the shore. That great black hawk, yet still the color of midnight, landed with supernatural grace upon a stone balustrade, and its feathers shone with a chilling, blue-white gleam. Graceful curtsies deepened, as Tomoyo and the Three Ladies rose before all others and glided towards the Sorcerer, young still, to make another curtsy to him. He gestured imperiously with a hand, and all the swans rose. 

"Good evening, Lady Swans." He pronounced. "I hope that you are all in good health."

And as always, none present answered. The Unseens played their strings in a haunting melody, that floated through tall, elegant maples, and wind rufflled long robes of the palest white, and one, of shimmering midnight blue. Theodorette, Head Lady-in-Waiting, gathered the swans, and made sure that all boarded the little ebon boats. They headed for the shore. 

Once again, the party of fifty odd girls alighted upon the shore, past magnificent landscaping, pruned with mathematical precision and supernatural skill, and set down at a table, to dine with the Lord Sorcerer. Still yet, all ate little and the food was put away, and now a group of Lady Swans wandered the halls of the old manor, treading upon marble floors that had not felt a foot touch upon it for hundreds of years. All was silent. 

The Queen Tomoyo and Second Lady Melisande were engaged in their own, diluted conversation, as there was little to speak of, and yet less that happened, to speak of. But for now, they spoke of little things, jewels and robes and paints. They looked at the enormous, gloomy halls, the delicate stone arches, the orifices, and the statues, frozen in motion forever. It was a gloomy place.

"I do not like it here." Melisande murmured in a soft voice. "It was as if Death has reigned her eternal kingdom here, and the Lord Sorcerer her faithful vassal. Such a beautiful place should gladden the heart, yet here, it feels as if doom presses upon me."

Tomoyo cast a dismissing look upon all the marble dominions.

"We have lain here in our silence for years, Melisande, and you and I are still faithful friends. Think no more on this. Besides which, we have wandered such halls for years, and we must become accustomed to it, if we are not already."

And yet the presence pressed upon them still. They left the halls, back through the East Salon, and then into the ballroom, where the Unseens played a lively quintet of a pianoforte and four bassols. There was a mad rush of graceful dance, as the Lord Sorcerer sat in his chair, a royal throne of sorts, and perused an ancient book with a gloomy countenance. The Mistress Kaho sat with them as well, yet she studied the girls as if each knew the burying ground of a great treasure, and she only had to stare long enough, to delve the secret of its location. 

Tall windows, taller yet than any in the entire manor, betrayed the crescent moon and twinkling stars the color of rubies and sapphires, and a velvet sky. Tomoyo had decided to go out, and a pair of arched French doors opened themselves for her with no sound at all, and she walked along a little marble stream, water rushing through merrily, and a cool breeze as light as chiffon tossed her hair about playfully. The pale, insubstantial fragrance of water lilies, as white as their fragrance, glowed as much as the moon. Soon, Adelaide and Melisande, and then Theodorette joined her. They three, then Adriana walked along the marble stream, false and made by the hand of man, yet beautiful still.

The marble stream, called the Brook of Tears by the swans,because it was so easy for the girls to conceal themselves in the little groups of trees, each with its own stone bench, and weep for what they had lost. It had been almost an hour, now, and the cooling breeze had turned into a swathe of air as hot and heavy as thick wool. Perspiring, Melisande of the long gold locks suggested that they take a swim. The girls looked at each other momentarily, and laughed out loud. At last, some vestige of childishness had surfaced in their cold, marble facades, and they giggled like peasant girls- albeit ones wearing silk gossamer and a fortune in jewels- who were out on a sunny afternoon with their wash. 

Jewels were carelessly pulled out of long hair, as if the owners thought no more of them than any other lowly stone to be found on a wayside path, and soon the ground and marble bench were littered with floating fabric, heaps and heaps, all painstakingly made with almost unbelievable embroidery in silver and jewels, and the baubles of the girls themselves, hair combs of gold studded with emeralds, silver bracelets covered with opals, and strings of moonstones and diamonds and rubies, and Tomoyo's amethyst-and-black pearl diadem of white gold. Delicate ankle bracelets, which would jingle when their owners moved, because of the tiny, perfect silver bells attached, was then in vogue among the girls after the thirtieth some swan was from the faraway land of India, and her exotic dark skin and dark hair and incredible dress had dictated the fashions of the swans. Only these ankle bracelets were kept on, being forgotten in the frenzy that girls sometimes are immersed in, and one by one they slipped into crystal clear, cool water.

For a while only splashing and shrieking and loud laughter were apparent, until all the girls, save the Swan Queen, decided to leave. They questioned if she wanted to leave too, or if they should keep her company, but she declined both and wanted to be alone.  Graceful forms alighted on the grassy banks, and they stayed a bit after, to dry themselves off with the air, and to don their rainments. Tomoyo floated in the water alongside of them, until they left. 

It was the Queen Swan's misfortune, however, that the Lord Sorcerer was strolling by the Brook of Tears at that very moment. Only minutes had lapsed, before he happened to chance upon her. His voice shocked her out of her momentary stupor.

"Lady Queen! Get out of that water at once." He snapped. 

"You are not a peasant woman to go swimming in a stream. Get out of there immediately. If you wish for a swimming pool, then I will have one made. But do not go swimming in there." He told her icily.

Tomoyo raised her chin haughtily. 

"I would get out of the water, Lord Sorcerer, except I haven't any clothes on. I am not coming out until you leave."

Eriol's face was icy, yet there was a hint of something in his eyes that made Tomoyo hesitate for a moment. In an astonishing act of goodwill, the Lord Sorcerer swept off the long cloak on his shoulders of heavy silk and moonstones, and held it out to her. Tomoyo did hesitate then, but when he promised to avert his eyes in a wry tone, she slipped out of the water and into the waiting cloak.

The sorcerer still glowered at her, despite the fact she had come out of the water.

"Your lips are turning blue." He accused. Tomoyo gave him a withering look.

"Thank you for noticing." She managed a disdainful tone of voice, despite her slim, shivering form, sopping hair, and being clothed only in a cloak that was far too large for her.

"We need to get you inside, and dry, before you catch your death. Lady Queen, this is no way to behave, especially with a court." He muttered. Grasping her elbow firmly, he lead her, to her surprise, not to the manor, but to a little summer cottage that was much closer in the extensive grounds than the manor itself. She hesitated, though, about her clothes, yet he had them sent in a blink to the cottage with magic. 

Tomoyo peered at him from under enormously long lashes. Apparently, that peering affected the imperturable sorcerer, as his hitched his shoulders and asked in an irritated voice,

"What?"

"I never expected this out of you, Lord Sorcerer.'

"What did you never expect, Lady Queen?" Eriol questioned amusedly. 

"Kindness from one who clearly possesses such contempt for betrayers such as well. Although I have never figured out what my betrayal was."

There was nothing but cold, mocking laughter in return.

"Of course, Lord Sorcerer, you are rather rude and I despise it. Civility cost nothing."

Her only reply was a coarse expletive, barely audible. Her lips tightened angrily, yet she said nothing.

They walked quickly down a bower of late summer damask roses, their heavy, rich scent perfuming the air, and fantastical shrubery studded with little blossoms carved themselves into concentric circles and rearing stallions and even fey shapes of sprites. They came upon a little statue of a woodland sprite, her robe of maple leaves and a crown of dogwod adorning long curls. She was so delicately crafted that even Tomoyo, who beheld unbelievable beauty every day, stared in interest. They passed a little pavilion that sprayed wistera in elegant bunches, and they beheld a little cottage of ancient riven stone, and a little slate roof. However, appearances were to be deceiving, as the little cottage was larger than it appeared. It held more secrets than its façade, as well.


	6. Borne of the Darkness

Chapter 5  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The little cottage of riven stone was quite small, by its outside appearance, though it had large windows that were hardly proportionate to such a small house, yet as the Sorcerer led the Swan Queen within, she looked questioningly at the sorcerer's marble countenance, a savage, proud countenance speaking of wealth, and breeding, as well as of intellect. It was a beautiful countenance, if harsh, with the arrogance of kings, or maybe a few dozen of them, and guarded as well as bastions and a moat might guard a castle. The sorcerer only stared down at the Queen, her delicate profile glowing like moonstones in the faint light, so beautiful that it was hard to imagine that anyone could be more beautiful, and her shivering form that dragged his cloak for a pace or more on the grassy banks.  
  
There was a silent communication between the Queen who was imprisoned and the sorcerer who was of stone, that was sharply ended as Eriol led her into the cottage.  
  
"Dry yourself off and put some clothes on, for God's sake. You may order the Unseens." Was the Queen's only brusque order, as he strode into another room. Tension yet crackled in the air as sheet lightning might, and the air was thick with it. His orders were dully followed.  
  
Swiftly as a swallow, the Unseens placed a sumptuous banquet upon an oaken table, the midnight version of a midday meal. Breads of varying texture, aromatic cheeses, joints of lamb doused liberally in spices, the finest chilled fruits, fresh crisp greens tossed with olive oil, decked the table atop a fine white damask tablecloth embroidered richly in gold, and large napkins of the same damask, but embroidered with no lavish gold swirls, but simply a tiny silken rosebud.  
  
The Swan Queen ate nothing but a piece of fruit and a slice of coarsely ground wheat bread with sweet butter. A thin slice. The Sorcerer, this being the first occasion that he had to dine with her privately, scowled darkly at her across the table in candlelight.  
  
"You do not eat enough. You will waste away. Is this the sickness of girls from the fashionable courts, of eating little until their complexions are green with malnourishment?"  
  
The swan too, glared formidably. She said nothing, but the sorcerer stood in a fluid, dangerously graceful motion to stride over and stand over her. He stared down at the half consumed slice of apple, the barely touched piece of bread. He was not pleased.  
  
"You are trying to starve yourself to death as a form of defiance, Lady Queen?" His voice was dark and scathing. He knelt at her side, as she sat with her back ramrod straight, and refused to look at him.  
  
"I do not wish for you to die, my Queen." He came closer, so close she could feel the heat of him radiating into her through her silk robe. His voice was not demanding now, not harsh, nor rude, but infinitely caressing and gentle. Such change she had never seen. He was breaking slowly.  
  
"Stop pretending to ignore me. You know you cannot, my dear Queen. Admit it for the truth that it is." And yet she would not look, breathing shallowly and erratically. She stood slowly, and asked to leave. There was an anguish in his eyes. All was unmasked, lost beyond regaining.  
  
"I have watched you from afar." He whispered.  
  
"May I retire, my lord?" The Lady Swan was turned slowly by warm hands whose heat penetrated her only article of clothing, turned in an infinitely tender manner.  
  
"No you may not." Was her answer, but she had no time for rebuttal, as a passionate, tender mouth covered hers. She struggled hard, but he held her fast in his embrace, and soon as if by magic, she lay limp and indolent in his encircling arms, as his hands moulded her form. They the both of them moaned softly, lost in each other, as they took more from each other. And more. And more yet.  
  
A blazing inferno consumed them, borne of the darkness in which they had resided for so long. And so thus it was unleashed, this strange, powerful force called love. 


End file.
